


Canine Comforts

by Artemis1000



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Chronic Pain, Dogs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Overworking, POV Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2019-11-17 14:03:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18099965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis1000/pseuds/Artemis1000
Summary: A stressed and overworked Markus finds solace in petting Sumo (and in the company of Sumo's human, but shush, we're in denial about that.)





	Canine Comforts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spookykingdomstarlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/gifts).



When he first met him, Markus had thought of Hank Anderson merely as Connor’s friend from the DPD. He had played his own part, to be sure, and in hindsight, he would even go so far as to say it might have been unkind to reduce him to this. Back then, he had been just one more human face among many at a time when too many humans were shouting at him and making demands in a raucous, discordant choir.

He hadn’t seen much of Anderson in the early days after the revolution and continued to see little of him while life in Detroit found some tentative new normalcy in a world where humans and androids were equals – or so the pundits claimed, anyway.

Markus’s work began where the flowery speeches ended, as it always had.

Hank Anderson, dressed in a shirt that would have impressed Carl with the sheer number of clashing colors it managed to portray, looked thoroughly unimpressed by both Markus and his work as he yanked opened the door, took one good, squinty-eyed look at the soaked android on the other side of his door and upped his scowl by several degrees.

“You know, it would be nice if you could drop by just one bleedin’ time without some bullshit making the headlines.”

Despite the bone-deep weariness that weighed him down after a day that had been too long even for android stamina, Markus found himself smiling. Just a little, mind you, and that was probably for the better. Hank would only get grumpier if he mistook it for Markus laughing at him.

Hank ran a hand through his hair, it wasn’t quite bedhead messy but looked as if he’d fallen asleep on the couch. He ruffled it further now, then caught himself and grumbled a little, caught himself again and stepped aside. “Anyway. Come in before my house gets flooded.”

Markus was, in fact, dripping all over the floor but Hank was surprisingly courteous about it as he took his coat and herded him towards the living room.

He’d never actually been to Hank Anderson’s home before, Markus realized as he covertly looked around, neither for headline-making affairs nor for lesser ones. It still felt vaguely familiar by way of the similarities many human homes had and Markus tried his best to keep his curiosity hidden, just so Anderson wouldn’t take it for scrutiny. Jazz music was quietly playing while the TV was on mute, showing some old action movie from the early 2000s.

It was very hard not to appear too curious and only got harder with every passing second. “Connor mentioned you have a dog,” he ventured, both because it seemed a good conversation opener and because he had been eager to meet the dog Connor was so enamored with. He had a lot to say about dogs and the wonders they did for humans and androids alike.

Anderson, Hank, had plopped down on the other end of the couch, one arm casually thrown over the armrest, leaning back. He looked comfortable, as if he hadn’t just voiced his displeasure at the android leader appearing in his home to discuss Detroit’s latest android-related police troubles. He didn’t look very displeased to Markus at all now.

Markus, in turn, sat very stiff. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable here, he just suspected he must be looking the part and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how to make himself appear less so. Well, he decided, maybe he was uncomfortable. Maybe it had been a mistake to bother Hank at 10:30 in the evening when the matter could have waited until morning. It was just him who hadn’t been able to wait.

“Yeah. Sumo.” Hank snorted. “He’s been sulking in the bedroom but I’m sure he’ll show himself soon enough. He’s too nosy not to.”

Nosy. Was that what this was? Markus did another round of distinctly not being too curious as he surveyed the living room before his eyes found Hank’s again.

“Why are you here, Markus?” he asked after a few seconds of silence had passed. He didn’t sound unkind, just exhausted. “And don’t say to visit my dog.”

He hadn’t been planning to but now Markus wondered for just one whimsical moment if that answer would have been favorable to the truth. It was too bad he did have a reason to be here and there was never any time for whimsy these days.

He opened his briefcase and removed a tablet as well as a stack of paper files. In a place where everyone had inbuilt hacking abilities some things were easier to keep confidential if you kept them analog. “The numbers of the new Detroit crime report have been leaked to us and there have been concerns about the number of android suspects, especially in correlation with the percentage of unsolved cases with android victims. Ever since Connor left the DPD you have been a reliable contact, I wished to hear your perspective before we work on a statement.”

Hank just _looked_ at him for long, long moments. Looked, then pinched the bridge of his nose and grumbled something under his breath. “And that couldn’t have waited until morning?”

It could have waited, he answered within his own mind. It was he who couldn’t wait. So he said nothing, his averted gaze his only response.

“You know you’re going to work yourself to an early grave if you keep that up, don’t you?”

As if on cue, a St Bernard exactly as humungous as Connor had promised walked into the living room. He made a beeline for Markus, who readily offered his hand to be first sniffed, then licked.

“Go ahead and pet him,” Hank offered. “He’s the friendly sort.”

Markus did, tentatively running his fingers through thick, soft fur. The dog plopped his huge head on his knees and Markus obeyed the unspoken command. He permitted himself to get lost in the rhythmic, simple motions for a few moments and with every stroke, he could feel some more of his tension seep away.

It wasn’t perfect. He couldn’t stop thinking about a dozen different problems even now, couldn’t stop ignoring the faint white noise of inconsequential error messages that a deviant processor translated to a faint but constant pain behind his replacement eye. The scavenged parts from the junkyard had never been quite the same as what he’d lost and no other parts he’d tried after were any better. They fit well enough, yet something akin to a phantom ache remained. Maybe it could be fixed, if he had the time to spare or if others didn’t need the engineers’ help more urgently. Too many maybes, too little relief, and didn’t that describe his permanent state of being these days?

Sumo gave another, quieter whuff and licked at his fingers before he graciously consented to let Markus use his hands to pet him some more.

No, even this moment wasn’t perfect and Markus still couldn’t stop thinking but the dog felt warm and solid and after a few more moments, the rhythm of his petting was picked up by the wagging of Sumo’s tail.

It wasn’t what he had come here for but when he looked at Hank again, the human looked strangely sympathetic, understanding even, and Markus suspected that his posture wasn’t quite so stiff anymore. He certainly didn’t feel so stiff anymore, nor so tightly wound or so close to fraying as he had ever since his last political meeting of the day.

“There’s no need to be concerned. Androids can’t work themselves to an early grave, Lieutenant Anderson.”

The man scoffed. “Thought I told you to call me Hank,” and that he didn’t even deign to rebuff the rest was more damning than if he’d tried.

Sumo stood and shifted, somehow managing to deposit an impressive amount of dog on Markus’s lap, while the rest of him took up most of the couch.

The extra weight felt clumsy and awkward on his lap but it was worth it, he decided within moments of the dog’s heavy, solid warmth seeping into his biocomponents. This, too, felt like Sumo’s warmth was loosening something wound too tight within him.

Hank chuckled. “Sorry. He’s friendly _and_ shameless.”

Yet again, Markus found himself smiling before he could stop himself. It was an effect Hank had had more than once him. Maybe it was one of the reasons he had decided to bother him tonight instead of the mayor or the police commissioner or the governor or one of the many other, higher-ranking humans he ought to be spending his time on. Maybe he’d just wanted to be here, Hank sounding gruff but looking at him with such kindness, and most of all looking at him and seeing only him, not the political use he could have.

Markus’s smile turned a little chagrined. “I’m sorry for barging in here so late. It could have waited until morning. There is other work I could have done tonight.”

Hank rubbed his hand over his beard. “Yeah. Well. Since you’re here already…” He shrugged a little. “You’ve made Sumo’s day, so much’s for sure. But just because I don’t want you hounding me with statistics at eleven p.m. doesn’t mean I want you hounding some other poor asshole.”

Markus shook his head, eyes fluttering shut as he granted himself a moment of relief from visual input. It wasn’t much but every little bit less input helped. He permitted himself just a moment and no more, as he always did.

“There is too much to do. Androids all over the country are relying on me and the peace is tenuous. There are never enough hours in the day for all the work that must be done.”

“I know,” Hank said, and though Markus knew that Hank wouldn’t truly know exactly what Markus’s numerous duties entailed, he still appreciated it for the deeper meaning of his words. _I hear you and I care_.

Markus kept stroking in swooping, smooth caresses along the length of Sumo’s back. The dog’s eyes had long since fallen shut in pleasure, tongue lolling out in doggy bliss.

The warmth of the dog and the soft background music mingled with the warmth of Hank’s eyes that never strayed from him for long, all of them conspiring to make Markus feel comfortable and sluggish, with some fuzzy barrier muting the rest of the world with its problems and even his own body’s aches.

“You know, you don’t need a reason to drop by.”

As a fact, Markus hadn’t known this, considering he had never dropped by before at all.

Hank seemed to realize the same a moment later. He shifted around on the couch, finally looking away from Markus’s face for any noteworthy length of time. “I’m just saying… If you ever need to get away from everything. You’re welcome here. Got a friendly face waiting for you.” He awkwardly nodded at Sumo.

“A friendly face or two?” Markus inquired. He was smiling again. It was so easy to smile with Hank, which was really quite funny considering Hank spent most of their time together being disgruntled or doing his best to fake it.

“Now you’re pushing it.” A snort, and what Markus could have sworn was an answering smile before Hank hid it.

The warmth he felt had nothing to do with Sumo. He still couldn’t stop smiling. “Maybe.”

In truth, Markus didn’t know a lot about where he stood with Hank or Hank with him – he knew just enough to wish he knew more. He was a steadfast ally to androids and to him, so much he knew for sure. Maybe a friend. There had never been the time to explore anything beyond that. There was so much to do, so much which was more important in the grand scheme of things than Markus’s own selfish, whimsical longings.

What did that mean, or did it mean anything at all? He couldn’t tell, not yet. Maybe he never would. Maybe it would turn out to be nothing. Idle curiosity. Maybe. There were worse maybes than this one that came with such a feeling of peace where every maybe only brought more uncertainty.

“Yeah. Anyway.” Hank grumbled a little under his breath, looking vaguely embarrassed even to Markus who didn’t know him all that well, and why exactly did he find that charming again? “You could. If you want to.”

He didn’t even have to think about it. “I want to.”

“Good.”

They settled back, Hank scooting as close as he could get with Sumo taking up most of the couch, and buried his own hand in the soft, thick fur.

Their fingers brushed now and then and their movements wouldn’t falter when they did so. Each time it happened, Markus’s eyes would seek out Hank’s before he could stop himself, and every time he found Hank looking back at him.

There might be worse maybes, indeed, he decided.


End file.
